


Captive

by Seanbiggerstaffrox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Bondage, Cameras, Cock Cage, Forced Orgasm, Hogtie, Humiliation, Kidnapped, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Sex Toys, Sex torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seanbiggerstaffrox/pseuds/Seanbiggerstaffrox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It’s then that Stiles feels the weird weight in his ass. It’s like large beads shifting inside of him – three, by his guess...He’s used to getting beaten when he’s kidnapped. This is a new one. </em>
</p><p>Stiles gets kidnapped and sex tortured. (no real pairing, but slight elements of Scott/Stiles)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captive

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by [this](http://gayboykink.tumblr.com/post/84327752456/his-master-had-put-a-vibrating-bullet-in-his) post (NFSW Gif and Text)

Stiles wakes up in some sort of underground vault, his ankles and wrists hurting and his head pounding. He feels fabric against his mouth and tape underneath that. He’s been gagged, thoroughly. He blinks at his surroundings. He’s gotten kidnapped again.

Stiles shifts restlessly, feeling his wrists restrained behind his head. He moves his legs, feeling a chain shift against his back. His arms move with the movement and he realizes the bind on his wrists connects to the one on his ankles. His knees protest at the way his calves are bent back behind him, but when he moves his legs to give them some relief, straps cut into his wrists. He writhes uncomfortably, not being able to find any give.

His skin scrapes against the stone floor and he realizes he’s naked except for his boxer briefs. Footsteps echo around the space and Stiles looks up, seeing Beacon Hills’ newest villain.

“Hello Stiles.” The man hisses, voice snakelike and predatory.

Stiles shivers, watching him with wide eyes. He breathes heavily, twisting in his binds.

“It won’t do any use, but keep trying.” The man says, grinning. “I’m sure you’ll make a lovely sight when your pack finally shows up. Or, I should say if.” He continues. “Too bad I won’t be here to see it.” He holds his hand up, some sort of remote in his gloved fingers.

It’s then that Stiles feels the weird weight in his ass. It’s like large beads shifting inside of him – three, by his guess. The guy presses a button and they spring to life, vibrating. Stiles cries out in shock, muscles tightening as he struggles. He’s used to getting beaten when he’s kidnapped. This is a new one.

There’s another weight. His cock’s trapped in an uncomfortable, constricting grip. It squeezes heavy around his dick, like a cage, and he frowns in confusion. The guy’s got another remote. Stiles watches with very real fear as the man smirks and presses a button. More vibrations start up, echoing through the grip on his dick.

Stiles lets out a shout of protest behind his gag and writhes on the ground, breathing heavily and staring at his captor in horror.

“Have fun.” He says, dropping the remotes on the floor and walking away, boots echoing off the stone walls.

Stiles whimpers, eyes honing in on the remotes. If he can wriggle across the floor he can get to them and turn them off. Stiles shudders, fingers twitching and toes curling. The vibrating bullets in his ass are pushing up against nerves, sending shock waves coursing through him. It’s worse in the front, where his caged cock is engulfed in tremors. The human shifts, hips working in agitated twitches, trying to move away from both sensations.

Stiles’ thighs strain, pulling on his binds. He moans in pain when his arms are yanked back, shoulders aching in their sockets from the weird angle. His cock twitches in its cage. He doesn’t think he can get hard with the contraption on, but his dick’s giving it admirable effort, throbbing in response to the pulsations of the toy. Stiles thinks this is definitely his worst experience getting kidnapped.

The teen’s eyelids flutter shut and he lets out pained-pleasured groans. One of the orbs in his ass is pressed right up against his prostate, sending intense, indulgent ripples coursing through him. Stiles whines high in his throat, jerking on the ground. He thinks about the remotes. They’re probably 20-25 feet away. It’s not far, but it’s far enough, and he breathes heavily, trying to summon his strength. He contorts, wriggling and only managing to rock back. His hips jump up in the air of their own accord, cocking throbbing as he tries to get his dick free from the vibrations. Maybe if he moves enough, he can at least get that toy away.

Stiles’ fingers flex behind him, reaching for something to hold onto and coming up empty. His feet slide together, toes curling and heels arching as he fights his binds. A broken sob slips past his lips and he rocks back onto his side. He blinks his eyelids open, staring out at the remotes with glassy eyes. He moves his hands, like he could reach them somehow. His dick burns inside the cage and he whines, feeling liquid drip out even though he’s still soft.

The feeling of the toys gets more intense as the minutes pass and Stiles wails. He’s not sure if he’s managed to move at all. He wants to be optimistic and say he’s shifted at least a couple of centimeters but he has a bad feeling he’s right where he started. He doesn’t really have anything to judge with. The room’s empty except for him and the remotes, so he can’t use nearby objects as a reference.

Stiles thinks he hears a noise and looks up with wide eyes, wondering if the pack’s here already. He’s panicked at the thought of any of them seeing him like this, so he’s not sure whether to be relieved or not when no one shows up. His eyes scan the room and he lets out a distraught whine when he sees the cameras in the corners. He can tell they’re on because when he looks up they whirr and move, like the villain’s trying to let him know that he’s recording this. He flushes in embarrassment. He hates this guy.

Stiles whines, curling toward the floor. He tries to cover his face with his elbows to give himself some modesty, but he can’t move them forward enough. He closes his eyes, clenching them shut and trying to mentally project himself out of the situation. Despite his efforts, he can’t stop his hips from undulating into the vibrations of the bullets,

He lets out a shocked, agonized keen when cum leaks out of his soft cock. Sweat drips down his brow and his muscles go taut. It’s not a particularly pleasant experience. It’s not like when he can get properly hard. It’s more like having the cum extracted without being able to truly enjoy it and it’s overwhelming in its own way. Stiles is left breathless and shaking, blinking glistening eyes and staring in front of him in distress. The vibrations keep going. His ass throbs, hole clenching around the toys inside him and he lets out fragile whimpers, yanking at the cuffs on his wrists.

Stiles’ pelvis jumps and he feels the toys shift inside of him at the movement. His skin burns hot and he feels sweat mat in his hair. His heart pounds in his ears and he wonders how long it will take the pack to find him. Could be minutes. Could be days.

Stiles breathes heavily, working through the haze in his brain and focusing on the remotes. He inhales deeply and summons all his strength, pushing off with his elbow and working himself forward. He has to use his abdominals more than his other muscles to push along the floor and he only manages a couple seconds before he needs to stop and take a break. He can tell he moved though. He’s not sure how far, but it’s at least progress. Stiles huffs, moaning as his ass convulses around the vibrating bullets. It feels too good and distress twists in his chest. His wrists and ankles chafe around the binds and he’s positive he’ll have bruises.

Stiles tries to push forward again, but he finds himself quickly falling back to the ground in weakness. The toys have his hips moving relentlessly while the rest of him is dizzy and pliant. He feels excess saliva collect in his mouth, overflowing onto the tape. He swallows thickly, struggling to work the liquid down past the noises catching in his throat. Above the fabric over the tape, Stiles’ nostrils flare, sucking in desperate inhales. He feels his cock leaking again, oversensitive as the toy milks him.

Stiles wails, body rocking back and hips surging up, eyes clenched shut as pearls of cum dribble out of his dick. He can feel it dripping into his underwear, creating a small stain on the front. Stiles heats in embarrassment, thinking about the cameras catching all of this. His struggles start anew.

In his binds, Stiles gives desperate, frightened pulls that don’t accomplish more than cutting his skin and wearing him out. He screams in frustration behind his gag, feeling tears drip down his lashes. His fingernails press into his palms so hard he draws blood and he clenches all his muscles, yanking on his cuffs. His ass tightens around the bullets and he shouts, feeling a tremor rock through him as a drop of cum leaks out of his dick.

Stiles takes a moment to feel sorry for himself before he writhes across the floor, fighting back his exhaustion and the continuing ache of the toys against and inside him. He reminds himself that he doesn’t exactly have a great track record for getting rescued and it looks like this place is pretty hard to find, so he’s his best chance of getting out of here. It’s a great peptalk, but it doesn’t get him very far.

Stiles quivers, head falling to the floor as his hips rock, grinding into nothing as the vibrations soar through him. It’s too much. His ass is sore and his cock’s aching and he feels like he’s falling apart. He thinks he’s going to come again. Stiles is chanting ‘no’ in his head and crying against his gag as more liquid spurts out of his dick.

He lets out weak, helpless whimpers and sniffs, nose filling up from his crying. He thinks he might suffocate in here before anyone finds him.

Stiles’ thighs clench together as the cage vibrates around his oversensitive member. He’s in a daze, just barely making out the remotes in front of him as he whines, trying to close his legs over the toy like it would help. His hole is spasming around the vibrators and his underwear feels too hot and constrictive around him.

He thinks he’s on his fifth or sixth orgasm when the pack shows up. Or maybe he’s still on his fourth. It’s hard to tell. They all seem to blur together at this point.

Stiles blinks cloudy eyes when there’s a noise. He’s not sure if it’s a figment of his imagination or not, but then it comes again.

“Stiles!” It’s Scott’s voice and Stiles whines in embarrassment and agony. “He’s over here!” Scott yells and Stiles tries to scream ‘no’ because he doesn’t want the whole pack seeing him like this. He hears feet running down the corridor and wails, hiding his face against the floor and clenching his eyes shut. He tries to still his hips but he’s too far gone for that, writhing on the floor restlessly and wishing the world would swallow him up.

“Oh my god.” Scott’s voice comes from a short distance away and Stiles sobs in response. “Derek, tell everyone else to stay back!” Scott orders.

“Why? Oh.” Derek says and then his footsteps are retreating. “Stay back!”

“Why?” Isaac asks.

“Just do it!”

“Stiles.” Scott says. Stiles pries his eyelids open and looks up at Scott with wet, glazed over irises. The wolf sucks in a surprised breath, watching his friend move on the ground. Stiles’ hips jump up despite himself and Scott glimpses a wet patch on the front of his briefs. Stiles whines and Scott rushes forward. He pulls the fabric and tape away and Stiles is suddenly blasting helpless moans in surround sound as he sucks in ragged breaths.

“Turn ‘em off.” Stiles chokes out, writhing desperately. He shivers and puffs, high whines stuttering out between his freed lips when cum spills out of his cock. It’s not much since he’s running dry at this point, but it feels like a life’s worth. “Please, turn ‘em off. Can’t – can’t take it.”

Scott looks back, spotting the small remotes behind him.

“Please, Scott. Turn ‘em off.” Stiles chants while the wolf goes for the devices.

There are a couple clicks and the sex toys come to a halt. Stiles lets out a grateful moan and gasps for air, collapsing against the floor with his eyes closed. Tremors and aftershocks rock through him, making him shake.

“We found some keys.” Scott says, moving around Stiles with them to unlock the binds. He frees Stiles’ hands and then his ankles and the human’s limbs fall to the floor in front of him as he huffs, looking exhausted and out of it. His skin’s ruddy and sweat-slick. Scott notices bruises blooming on his flesh and eyes his friend with concern. He thinks the guy they’re after is pretty fucked up.

“Is there a small key?” Stiles asks breathlessly. His eyes are closed. He feels too exhausted to open them. Scott strokes his forehead soothingly.

“Yeah.” The wolf answers.

“There’s a thing…” Stiles says vaguely, gesturing at his briefs. “I’ll do it.” He murmurs, prying his eyelids open and trying to shift up. Scott’s face blurs in his glassy vision. He can make out the worried determination though.

“I’ll do it.” Scott says, pushing Stiles down and reaching for his underwear. Stiles wants to protest but he’s too exhausted, so he lets Scott grab his waistband and pull.

“C-cameras.” Stiles stutters, remembering.

Scott pauses, looking around the room and glowering when he sees them. “We can do this in the hallway.” He suggests.

Stiles thinks about getting up and shakes his head. “It’s fine.” He mutters. It’s not like he has much else to hide at this point. He glances down, seeing the cock cage properly for the first time and wishing he hadn’t. It’s a metal contraption, shaping around his dick and constricting it. He sees cum smeared all over it and whimpers in shame, dropping his head on the ground and clenching his eyes shut.

He grits his teeth, taking in shallow breaths when he feels Scott fiddling with the enclosure. It’s agony around his spent cock, but it’s worth it when the thing unlocks and Scott gets it off. Stiles moans in relief. Scott finds the vibrating bullet in the front of his underwear and tosses it away.

“Is that everything?” Scott asks.

Stiles shakes his head. He reaches back toward his ass, pushing at where his waistband is in the way.

“Let me.” Scott says and Stiles whines. He feels cool air hit his backside when Scott pulls the underwear down. “I don’t see anything.” Scott says after a moment.

“Inside.” Stiles explains shakily, trying to reach back again. The bullets are uncomfortable in his swollen hole and he needs them out. Scott swats his hand away and Stiles’ heart races. He figures it’s a sign of true friendship that his friend is willing to reach into his butt for him. Of course, he’d do the same for Scott.

He hears Scott suck his fingers and then they’re prodding at Stiles’ anus, pushing against the puckered nub as he tries to get at the toys. Stiles’ fingernails dig into the concrete floor and he holds back a groan. The wolf presses in, rubbing against overstimulated nerves, and Stiles feels his cock twitch. His breaths increase and he tries to power through it. He feels Scott grab onto the first orb. The wolf pulls and they all shift, attached together by some sort of string.

Stiles can’t stop whimpering as they move inside of him. They slide out slowly, popping out one by one, and Stiles moans. The last one finally leaves him and Scott drops the toys onto the ground. Stiles feels about three seconds away from passing out and his hands tremble when he reaches down toward his waistband to pull his underwear on. Scott helps before lifting him up off the ground, not bothering to ask if he can stand because it’s obvious he can’t.

Stiles sways in his friend’s grip, his head falling onto Scott’s shoulder. He takes in shallow inhales and struggles to keep his eyelids open as he watches the vault grow further away. He manages to pray that this guy dies in something slow and painful before he finally passes out, exhaustion claiming him.


End file.
